


A Moment of Clarity

by hops



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, PWP, Public Sex, Rough Sex, kind of lol, postcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 11:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12726072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hops/pseuds/hops
Summary: After everything, Magnus and Lucretia return to the Chug 'n' Squeeze after hours to revisit how that other tryst thereshouldhave happened.





	A Moment of Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> I stole this cake from @epersonae bc when are we not publishing conceptually identical fics for sport
> 
> THIS IS A SEQUEL TO [A Moment of Weakness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385219/chapters/25493439)
> 
> Enjoy my porn and please don't @ me about this holy god I know it's very transparent wish fulfillment let me live.

They were a few drinks in at Fantasy Olive Garden when Magnus had an idea. Lucretia saw it on his face before he even opened his mouth. 

“Do you still have the keys to the Chug ‘n’ Squeeze?” 

She took pause. She did have them. They were right in her bag on the ring of keys to all the various places she needed access to as Director. These days, with so many new faces and positions filled at the Bureau, she hadn’t needed them. But the one for the beloved pottery-and-wine night establishment was one that still got some use. Pottery was a way for her to relieve stress, instead of creating more through her work in order to distract herself from other stress. It’d become a vicious cycle. Working with clay was therapeutic. 

But she was pretty sure that wasn’t what Magnus was thinking. 

They hadn’t been back to the Chug ‘n’ Squeeze since the night he’d found her there, alone and throwing, and knocked on the door ‘til she let him in. She’d let the wine get the better of her and, in a moment of weakness, gave in to the same old desires she’d never really let go of since she’d sent him off into the big Faerun world alone and unremembering.

It wasn’t her proudest moment. They hadn’t talked about it much; when they did, it’d been tense. Magnus understood why, but he still felt a little hurt. But so much time had passed since then, and since they’d finally talked it out, that now he’d even joked about it from time to time as they passed the storefront, or when she brought home her third vase in a week.  _ “Aw, without me?”  _ he’d joke, and she’d smile too, hoping that every day they could leave a little more of the past in the past. 

Tonight they’d forgone their usual drink routine and dipped into the harder stuff: sangria for Lucretia (because she never wandered far from wine), and a Moscow Mule for Magnus (because he liked the copper mug). And by the third, the staff was starting to clean up, and his cheeks were flushed pink from the buzz that’d started to sink in. And he had that clever glint in his eye that told her he had something on his mind. Probably something to do with getting laid. 

She cocked a brow, considering the key in her clutch. “You wanna go make a vase?” 

“Yeah. Yup. I do.” 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re deceiving me, dear?” 

“Me? Naw.” 

She laughed and settled their tab, leaving the check on the edge of the table. “Come on, then,” she pretended to sigh dramatically and sauntered off ahead of him. 

They walked along the storefronts of the moonbase as she fished through her belongings for the key. She found them as they approached the door. 

Magnus was laughing and she couldn’t help but laugh too. “What are you laughing at?” 

“Iunno, it just feels like we’re breaking in!” 

For someone who felt like they were breaking in, he was being awfully loud. “Shh,” she hushed him, but still, she giggled too. 

“Want me to pick the lock?” 

As soon as he asked, she found the ring and flipped through it for the correct key.

“No. Are you going to keep yelling about breaking in until everyone on the moon hears?” 

He nuzzled into her neck, making her shiver abruptly. She fumbled with the key. “Everyone on the moon is gonna hear something, but it’s not gonna be me.” 

She laughed to hide a moan. “Oh, so  _ that’s  _ what you brought me here for?” 

“You know it! I brought you here because my vase is gonna be so good that you’ll wake everyone up shouting about how great it is.” 

She turned the key and opened the door, laughing harder now. “Oh, definitely.” 

As she went to flip a few lights on, he held her wrist with a big hand. “Just the string lights. I want some  _ ambiance.”  _

She got them set up with one wheel. Magnus had insisted on a “collaboration,” and she wasn’t exactly sure what that was going to entail. But it meant less cleanup later, so she complied. They’d taken a bottle of wine from behind the bar to share, not even bothering with glasses anymore. In a way, it did feel like they were doing something a little crazy, intruding on a place they weren’t  _ really  _ supposed to be. In a way, it reminded her of their younger days, spent He removed his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and sat down on the bench beside hers to watch her work. 

She ran her hands, slick with water and slip, over the lump of clay as she eased onto the pedal. As the form centered easily beneath her palms, she began to pull it upwards ever so slightly. She could feel his eyes on her hands, watching intently. 

“You know,” he started, voice low. “I think if I’d known who you were that night in here, things would have gone differently.” 

She swallowed, trying to focus on the vase. “How so?” 

“Well, first of all, I wouldn’t have bothered taking you back home. If I remembered all that stuff we used to get up to, where we weren't supposed to get up to it…” 

“We made do.” A rush of memories was concealed beneath her smirk. Simultaneously, a rush of butterflies took her stomach. “So, what, you would have done all that in here?” 

Magnus sipped straight from the bottle, stood up, then got on her bench and slid right behind her. “Yeah. I would have.” 

She shivered and the fragile cylinder of clay wobbled beneath her hands. 

“Easy now,” he murmured at her ear. He pushed up against her. “Focus.” 

He slipped a hand over her hip, then under the waistband of her pencil skirt. “Hard to, when you’re--” 

She pressed her hands harder into the clay, making the neck too thin. She made a noise somewhere between frustration and arousal. 

“Focus…” repeated Magnus, this time as a growl. A surprise jolt of heat rushed through her hips and up to her chest. “I haven’t even told you what else I’d do differently…” 

“What’s that?” she breathed. 

He hummed against her neck. “Well, for starters, I would have sat you up on the bar and gone down on you.” 

_ Oh.  _ Her brows shot up, and though he couldn’t see, it was her small, sharp intake of breath that gave her away. His hand crept downward towards her thigh, under the lace of her lingerie. But instead of succumbing to him so soon, she instead challenged him. “That’s all?” 

He chuckled at her ear and kissed her earlobe. “Put you up against the wall…” 

One of her fingers dug into the clay, tearing a half-moon curve around the circumference of the base. “Of course.” 

“Hmm… You know what I thought about after? Before I remembered and everything?”

She waited in silence for his answer. His second hand joined in on the fun as he reached under her shirt and slid a broad, rough hand over her breast. 

“What would have happened if someone had walked by… I mean, the place has these big windows, right? And we didn’t pull the blinds…” 

His voice wandered with innocence, playing the part of someone who wasn’t aroused by such a risk. Of course, the prospect of  _ actually  _ being caught by  _ anyone  _ in the Bureau was objectively horrifying to her, but the idea of it, of being found out in somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, it awakened century-old desires within her that’d been forged by times on the Starblaster. Particularly times where they’d had to be quick and quiet to keep the others from hearing. Or even more, the times where Taako or Lup had found them, and had their way with Magnus or Lucretia, respectively, in turn.

Both of her hands tensed as he kissed and sucked down her neck. The vase was a lost cause now. It had really been from the moment he’d had the idea to come to the Chug ‘n’ Squeeze, anyway. 

“I mean, imagine that… everyone knowing how Madam Director spends her alone time... “ His breath was ragged against her skin. He smelled of ginger and wine. “Knowing where she’d been sleeping… Lucky you had those high-collared robes to hide your neck.” 

“Magnus,” she breathed. Her foot pressed down hard on the pedal and sent the clay off-kilter. A few little bits went splattering off onto her clothes and the floor.  _ “Please.”  _

He let out a hungry noise that curved into a laugh. “Spent a lot of time thinking about that one. I mean, I hooked up with the boss, right?” 

He slipped his hand between her legs. She took her hands and foot from the pottery wheel entirely.

“There would have been murmurs about how you like it. Slow and sweet, right?” He dipped a finger between her folds and found her wet for him already. “Until it’s not…”

He wasn’t wrong. And right about now, she was really leaning towards the latter. She pushed back against him and made sure the small of her back was pressed to his crotch. Sure enough, she felt him there, half-hard and waiting for her to say the word. 

She set her jaw and gathered up all of her lust and her confidence. “Is this all talk, or are you planning on fucking me sometime soon?”

Magnus chuckled against the back of her neck. He got his fingers wet and slid one on either side of her clit, working her over with just one hand. The other reached beneath her bra to play with a nipple, sensitive and hard. The combined sensations sent her further backwards into him; she wanted to reach back and grab onto his hair, but she still had clay all over her hands. 

“Let me--” she gasped as he rubbed her clit in gentle circles. Her stomach lurched as the heat in her hips grew. “Let me wash my hands--” 

He made a noncommittal noise. “Doesn’t matter now. You know me, when I’m on a mission…” 

“Magnus…” 

“How do you want it?”

She tipped her hips upward so he could slip a finger inside. She offered a whimper instead of an answer. 

“Tell me, Lucy. If someone caught us, what would they know?” he growled. “That you beg for it?” 

“I’m not always-- the one begging--” she rasped back, bucking into his palm so the heel of his hand ground into her clit. 

He laughed with nothing but joy. “Oh, but when you are, it’s really something else.” 

_ “Please.”  _ And there it was, right on cue. 

“Just tell me how you want it, and you’ll have it.” 

She gritted her teeth and pushed back against him with some force, just to show a little protest before she’d inevitably concede to his demands. Desire overwhelmed her; there was nothing better to her than the times that he just had his way with her. She was malleable beneath his touch, willing to be whatever he wanted her to be, covered in his hands and his mouth, everywhere everywhere everywhere. 

“Rough,” she gasped through a sudden surge of pleasure that took her whole body. “Hard.” 

And then, his smile as a second finger joined the first. “That’s what I thought.” 

Just as she thought she was getting somewhere close to a climax with his hands, he pulled away and left her there on the bench as he stood up and tugged his shirt over his head. 

She collected herself for a moment. The fantasy of getting caught in somewhere risky made her head spin, but the reality of it within the context of the Bureau was not remotely appealing. She cast a quick spell that dropped all the blinds shut at the same time. 

“Using all that powerful arcana for something?” 

She stood up and turned to face him with some witty rebuttal, but it was lost when he instantly pulled her blouse from where it’d been tucked into her shirt. He unbuttoned it hastily to reveal the black lace that confined her breasts. 

“Fuck,” he breathed at the sight of her. “You are so beautiful.” 

She took the moment of opportunity to unbuckle his belt, not caring about the clay that smeared on the leather anymore. He chuckled and swept her quickly up so she was pressed to the wall behind them. He stepped out of his pants, then took his erection and palmed it. She noted, as always, the size of him. She wasn’t complaining. 

She looked up with a wolfish grin and found him wearing one just as hungry. He’d just talked her halfway to an orgasm, and now she was sure he was aiming to make good on his promises. 

“Wanna see if I can make you wake the Bureau?” he challenged. 

Her throat felt dry. He reached down to hike her skirt up to her hips, then pushed her panties to one side. He trailed his hand over her and chuckled warmly at the heat of her. 

“God, it’s been so long since I’ve fucked you  _ right.”  _

She wobbled a little bit. He caught her with both hands and promptly picked her up so her spine was pressed firmly to the wall for leverage and he could hold her by the backs of her thighs. He held her steady and slid inside her all at once, quick and easy thanks to how wet she was. She gasped at the sudden fullness. 

“Oh, gods--” she whimpered as he went to town on her. He didn’t waste any time with the  _ slow and sweet. _ He knew better than to draw it out when she wanted it like this. But she still wavered in her position as he thrust into her, trying to figure out the most stable way to get a grip on him. 

“Just hold onto me, baby,” he assured her, slipping into a tone of comfort for just a moment to let her get a grip on his back. She looped her arms around him and nodded into the crook of his neck for him to continue. 

The moment he resumed, her head was sent spinning. His name came spilling from her mouth as he pushed her legs further apart and spread her open. He was just so  _ big.  _ It somehow managed to surprise her a little every time, how much he stretched her, how deep he reached. His hands dug into her thighs, then gripped up onto her ass, pulling her down even harder as he rutted into her. Every thrust brought a panting, bouncing breath from her open mouth. 

His mouth found hers and kissed her hungrily, his tongue exploring and tangling with hers and sending her throbbing with need as he fucked harder still. She pulled from the kiss with a gasp as she dragged her hands down his shoulders, leaving pink scratches and gray smears of clay over the the broad muscles of his back. She panted against his open mouth and cried out until he swallowed the sound with another kiss. 

“Come here,” he said hoarsely. He hoisted her up on top of him and she wrapped her legs tight around his waist. Lifting her seemed like nothing to him, and that aroused her all the more. They usually weren't rough; it wasn't really their speed. But when they were, it was a reminder of how he could really manhandle her when he wanted to. And sometimes she just wanted to be thrown around a little bit. 

He set her down on the edge of a barstool and resumed his pace, now able to put all of his focus into her. He was able to get a little deeper still from the new angle, and it did not go unnoticed. 

He slid a huge hand up over her breast and up onto her neck where it lingered for a moment. She tipped her head back and he crept up to her chin and slipped his thumb into her mouth to tug her back down. 

Instead, she sucked on the digit and swirled her tongue around, as if to give him a sneak preview of what she’d do to him in turn should he let her. He looked down at her, lips parted, brow knit, and picked up his pace. 

“Is that--” she gasped as he wrapped a gentle hand around her throat. “All you got?” 

“Dunno, think you can do better?” 

She said nothing, only challenging him with her gaze. The slight pressure of his hand on her neck was driving her absolutely wild. She tried to focus on him but that combined with the feeling of him pumping steadily in and out of her was enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut. Her back arched in a desperate attempt to get closer to him.

“Oh, Luce,” came his sigh, punctuated with a groan. He took her chin firmly between his thumb and fingers to force her eyes to his. “You want more? I got it.” 

He pulled out from her and she ached in the sudden absence. A thick arm snaked around her lower back and pulled her onto her feet, then he quickly turned her around and pressed her down between her shoulder blades to bend her over the counter. She gasped at the sudden and almost  _ forceful  _ shift in position. It sent her head spinning. 

He smacked her ass lightly and she squealed, laughing a little in a short moment of relief. He slipped back inside of her easily and worked back up to pace. As he did so, the reprieve was overtaken by the sudden rush of ecstasy that sent her legs shaking. She clawed for purchase on the countertop and held on for dear life as he fucked her harder. 

“M-Magnus,” she moaned, barely able to form his name on her lips. “Please--” 

He leaned over her to growl at her ear. “Please what?” 

She dissolved into an incoherent mess of syllables. She could feel him grinning into her hair. 

He slipped a hand over her scalp, weaving through her curls and pulling taut. She cried out and pushed back into him as he tugged her head back, exposing her neck so he could kiss her. 

“I’m gonna come,” she breathed urgently.

“Not ‘til I say.” 

She was teetering at the edge of her climax within seconds. 

“Magnus--” 

He tugged a little harder on her hair. “That’s me,” he grunted from behind her. She could feel the satisfaction dripping from his voice. 

“I can’t, I really-- I’ll--” 

He slowed his pace and pulled out. That wasn’t any better; she held herself up on the bar as she trembled. She was desperate for release now. 

“Get up on there,” he said, nodding to the lower counter where the cash register was. She made her way over. Her legs felt like jello. She peeled her panties away and hiked her skirt up and sat on the edge of the counter. When he got on his knees before her, she could do nothing but brace herself. 

“Honey,” she pleaded softly as he spread her legs apart. “I-- I--” 

He looked up at her from between her thighs, looking like he’d been starving for her. 

“You know I’ve got you,” he assured, voice low but soothing. 

She nodded and leaned back as he ran a finger from her entrance and upwards, then immediately dove in to spread his tongue over her folds. He lapped up and found her clit, swollen and waiting for him to just give her the right touch to send her straight into her orgasm. He wrapped his mouth tenderly around her and licked, then sucked, then licked again. She writhed on the counter and knotted one hand into his hair. As wave after wave of heat rolled through her, bringing her closer each time, she pulled tighter on his hair and shoved him closer into her cunt. 

“Harder,” she managed to hiss. 

He made an ungodly, involuntary noise that sent sparks up through her pelvis as the sound moved through her. When she managed to sit herself up enough to look down, he was stroking himself as he ate her out. 

“Oh  _ gods,”  _ she moaned, falling back against the counter to just take every feeling in. As she reached back to find something sturdy to hold onto, he slipped two eager free fingers inside her and stroked downward experimentally. She shuddered. Her hand flew to the counter and immediately met a vase full of flowers; she knocked it off the counter and onto the ground with a gasp. It shattered with a loud crash. 

“Magnus!” she cried out, focus lost for just a moment on the broken pottery. He didn't even look up. “Magnus, I-- oh,  _ fuck!”  _

He grinned against her folds and continued his pace, and that was the end of her. Her hips bucked upwards and ground hard against his mouth. She was lost to a mess of sounds that made no sense at all, a sea of feelings and desires and arousal that boiled up and overtook her all at once. She buckled against him and all at once she came. Her eyes squeezed shut tight and she let it take her over, overflowing, overwhelming. She quaked at the feeling of his mouth; he was unrelenting, making sure that she felt every single second of her orgasm. As she throbbed around his fingers she could feel the wetness that hat pooled in his palm. And then, as the last of the shocks rolled through her, his tongue lapping up all of the mess she’d made. 

When he finally pulled away and looked up at her, his nose and mouth were still glistening and slick.  _ That  _ was an image she was going to commit to memory. He stood up as she pushed forward so she had room to lay herself out on the counter and collapse into a puddle for a moment. She could barely move. As he leaned down over her and kissed her deeply, she tasted herself on his mouth.

“Come on,” she coaxed between sticky kisses. “Come get yours.” 

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He slid back inside her and she moaned loudly, still sensitive and soaked as ever from her own orgasm. He gripped her tightly by the hips and yanked her forward so he could slide all the way down to the hilt. She inhaled sharply with a yelp. 

His voice was strained, eyes twisted shut tight. “Is this okay?” 

“Yes,” she whispered. 

She reached up and slid a hand over his chest, moving up to his neck, then pulling herself up so she could be closer to him. His breath was ragged as he fucked her. 

She could feel it building in her again, rolling and rolling like thunder until it was threatening to burst from her again. She got lost in the feeling of his cock filling her and stretching her, deep and thick and hot. 

“Magnus,” she whimpered, unsure of what else to do than to hold tight to him. He was too busy in his own pleasure to answer her. “Oh,  _ fuck me,  _ it’s so--” 

His breath became ragged in an instant, the sounds coming from him turning from light breaths into grunts into loud, urgent groans. “Oh,  _ oh, fucking-- gods--”  _ he nearly shouted, fucking her fast and hard. 

Lucretia fell back onto the counter and let it take her over once again, so much swifter than it had the first time. She arched up off the counter as he thrust into her through her orgasm and he lifted her by the small of her back. 

As she throbbed and shuddered on him, squirming and twisting with her mouth open wide in a silent cry, he pulled from her all at once. “Oh, Luce,” he choked, stroking himself, still slick with her wetness. He finished on the soft, dark skin of her thigh, breathing out her name, flushed deep red and panting.

“Oh,” he breathed. He lowered her back down onto the counter and followed her down as she collapsed into a heap below him. “Oh, gods. Oh. Wow. Hi.” 

She laughed breathily. “Hi, Mags.” 

“Sorry, I--” 

She slipped a hand up onto his cheek. She felt as though there wasn’t much else she could do in terms of movement besides that, being so exhausted and  _ spent  _ as she was. “What in the  _ world  _ could you be sorry for about that?” 

He laughed, still blushing. “Dunno. I’m usually not so… y’know…” 

“It’s fun, every once in awhile…” 

She liked when he was aggressive. It reminded her of their earlier days, when she was shy and secretly eager to have someone show her how good she could feel, and Magnus was not-so-secretly eager to show her just that, as if it were a challenge. 

And now, looking up at him, she saw that boy for just a moment. He still lived in Magnus’s smile. In the playful glimmer of his eye, reflected from the yellowish string lights of the bar. Her Magnus, here with her, always. 

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured. He collected her into his arms and lifted her from the counter. She could barely stand; she clung onto him tight in an effort just to hold herself up against the tingly, trembling sensation in her legs. “Easy, baby.” 

“Sorry,” she laughed softly. He supported her easily with a fraction of his strength in his arms. He helped her pull her skirt back down and put her up on a barstool while he collected the various items of clothing they’d shed in their romp around the establishment. As her thoughts and her composure returned to her, she looked around at the mess they’d made: a picture frame askew from where he’d fucked her against the wall, pottery benches slightly awry from where he’d carried her over to the bar, the vase knocked onto the ground and shattered behind the counter. “We should clean up…” 

Magnus was putting his pants back on as he looked over at her. “Deffo.” 

She straightened her skirt and hopped down from the stool to search for a spray bottle and a rag from behind the bar. “Please look for my underwear. I really like those ones… Also, I’d prefer for them to  _ not  _ be found by someone else.” 

As she found the cleaning supplies, she looked up to see Magnus holding the little black lace number with one thick finger. “So, what’s up, do I get a prize for finding them?” 

She set the bottle down and leaned over the bar to kiss him, shaking her head with a smirk.

“Thank you, Magnus,” she said softly. 

A grin spread wide over his lips. “Anytime, Madam Director. Ma’am.” 

“Hush.” She slapped him lightly on the chest, but she couldn’t hide the smile that mirrored his own. 


End file.
